Miss Writerly Raises Her Hand

HOST: Now would anyone like to ask any questions of our guest tonight? Is that OK, Lucinda? I don't want to impose on you. Just thought everyone would be really interested to have a chance to talk.

LUCINDA: Of course.

HOST: Feel free to talk about your own work, people. No point in hiding your light under a bushel.

LUCINDA: What is a bushel?

HOST: We're asking the questions! Anyone?

[An insignificant YOUNG WOMAN in the corner tentatively raises her hand. LUCINDA looks interested. MAN #1, a self-important older male, stands up to speak though, moving slightly too aggressively, a glass of wine spilling in his hand. LUCINDA can be seen to take a small step back, catching his sharp movement in her peripheral vision.]

MAN #1: Well I've written THREE novels now, drawing on some twenty years experience in headhunting. I was wondering what advice you had for the, ah, more advanced writers out there with a significant body of work? Should I send synopses of all of them?

HOST: And also, what is the plural of synopsis?

LUCINDA: Gosh, plural of synopsis. I'm not sure there should be one. I'm not sure that was ever meant to be, if you get my drift. My advice to you is to choose the one synopsis you think we would be interested in. And if there isn't one, please don't send it on the off chance we'll read it and change our prejudices just for you.

MAN #1: Only one though?

LUCINDA: Well, maybe it's just me. I'm sure there's some kind of literary porn out there in which editors and agents beg for simultaneous submissions from the same author. Not in real life though. I find the thought rather depressing. It's always men that do that, too. I assume your stories are all in a consistent genre, at least?

MAN #1: Fast paced thrillers set in the world of executive recruitment. I've had interest from several people.

LUCINDA [looking deeply sceptical now]: Any agents?

MAN #1: Well, I don't think agents really grasp the potential of this kind of work. I don't think they really see where the market is going to be. I guess they are a stage removed from actual publishing...

HOST: OK, let's move on to the next question...

[The YOUNG WOMAN in the corner tentatively raises her hand again. LUCINDA looks towards her encouragingly. But a self-important OLDER WOMAN interrupts.]

OLDER WOMAN: Yes. Lucinda. I wondered, with respect, what advice you could give me as to my novel set in a retirement home. Given that you are a commissioning editor probably still in your twenties...

LUCINDA: Thank you. I mean, I wish.

OLDER WOMAN: ...it's hard to see how you would quite empathise with that subject matter. And that audience. But there is a great readership among older people, that isn't being properly considered.

LUCINDA: Well I understand what you're saying. Although I generally think that anything that's written with empathy will appeal to anyone who has empathy. I published a novel recently about a group of pigeon breeders in Manchester , wich I'd have to admit is beyond my usual horizons. It was the warmth of the thing that appealed though. You just need to think about what is universal about your work, and make sure it is brought out properly. But not just in your writing - in your covering letter, in your synopsis.

OLDER WOMAN: But most novels still seem to be essentially of the Bridget Jones type.

LUCINDA: Well, that is true enough. In a strange way - and don't hate me for saying this - the struggles of younger women will always be more appealing. Even to older readers. So you will be struggling against that current. Don't hate me for saying that - I'm not saying that's my preference but that's definitely how markets work. Grannies on the bus aren't reading about grannies on the bus.

OLDER WOMAN: As a figure of influence, don't you think you might be in a position to change that though?

LUCINDA: No.

[OLDER WOMAN looks shocked.]

LUCINDA: Let's see now. I'd rather keep my job than be right and unemployed, any day. I have no more of a desire for martyrdom than anyone else. There's a poem, you know. Well, not a poem as such. Here lies the grave of Edward McVeigh, who died maintaining his right of way... he was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong. I know it might seem obscene, but we are in publishing to sell books and at the very least stay afloat. I'm sure there are hundreds of books inspired by Twilight and X-factor doing the rounds now, and the blunt answer is we need those books to publish the ones we personally believe in. The odds are that your beautifully observed metafictional story of life and love in twelfth-century Rome, the one I've been yearning to push on to the bookshelves, is not going to pay its own way. If they did, we'd publish more of them. Simple as that. Does that make me seem like a terrible person?

[Short silence. Then general laughter.]

LUCINDA: Oh god, it went all silent for a moment there. I am a terrible person. But you know what I mean. I'd encourage any writer to remember that publishers are not registered charities. I don't want anyone specifically writing for an audience - in the end, it just appeals to no-one - but maybe just think what would this novel about accounting mean to someone who isn't an accountant?

OLDER WOMAN: Although it's set in a retirement home, if you remember.

LUCINDA: Er, yes.

HOST: OK very good, any more questions?

[The YOUNG WOMAN in the corner raises her hand yet again. LUCINDA points to her this time.]

YOUNG WOMAN: I -

[Self important older MAN #2 rises to his feet instead.]

MAN #2: Just how long should a synopsis be?

LUCINDA [instantly]: 512 words.

[Small titters from the audience, some of whom are not 100% sure whether this is actually untrue.]

LUCINDA: Exactly. Not a word more, not a word less.

MAN #2: But how long should a synopsis for a trilogy of novels be? I have quite a lot of ground to cover in them...

LUCINDA: 512 words.

MAN #2: But seriously now.

LUCINDA: Sorry. Sorry. The trick is to read the submissions guidelines. They're kept on web sites, to keep them secret from the public.

MAN #2: Should it be a plot synopsis though, or more like the blurb on the dust jacket?

LUCINDA: I think that very much depends on the editor. Or the agent. I like an indication of style, myself - you never really work out much of the character of a book from a plot synopsis, but I imagine a publisher at the popular end of the market - I should say, non-literary, perhaps - would want to see fairly strong evidence that you know how to structure the story. To be honest I do too, but in literary novels it's not so easy to judge in formulaic terms. I mean, I'd love it if John Banville jumped ship and came to me with a plot synopsis like a Brazilian soap opera. But it's only ever happened the once.

HOST: Really? John Banville?

LUCINDA: And then I woke up. I was most annoyed with my husband at that moment, I can tell you.

HOST [laughing]: I just hate being woken up in the middle of a promising approach.

LUCINDA: You know, the scary thing is that someone over there is actually writing that last bit down. Anyone else, now?

[YOUNG WOMAN raises her hand again. No-one interrupts this time.]

YOUNG WOMAN [surprised]. Oh! Shit. Um.